Colors of the Heart
by DaLantis
Summary: Klaus reflects after his 5yr imprisonment and his love for Camille.


**The Originals Fanfiction. I OWN NOTHING. One shot. Set shortly after S4E2 when Klaus is released from his 5yr prison.**

 **Colors of the Heart**

Every stroke of his brush, each line of color he added to the blank canvas before him, released an emotion he could feel stirring deep within his soul. Emotions he had once considered lost to him, he now felt anew and they were not welcomed.

He knew many people who would perhaps say that Niklaus Michaelson did not feel emotions like most people do, that he was merely evil and unable to feel anything that remotely resembled love. However he also knew people, such as his brother Elijah and his sisters Freya and Rebekah, who would say he felt too much too deeply, rather than nothing at all.

Personally, he just wanted them all to shut their opinionating pie holes. Still, there was one who believed in him like no else did and she too had stated her opinion for him to hear, whether he wanted to or not. She always was so stubborn, so bull headed. It was what he had liked about her, his Camille.

The day she had died had felt so hard, so painful that he could barely breathe. He had wanted nothing more than to rip apart those that had caused her harm and yet… while it had helped relieve his stress, it had not eased the pain.

For five years, he had suffered in the prison of his own adopted son. For five years, he had suffered nights and entire days, alone, left to his demons that consumed his every thought. The What If's, the Paranoid delusions of being left alone forever while his family moved on without him, and of course… his monster that never slept and always hungered for blood, any blood.

 _She_ had been the only light in his darkest times. With great resolve to protect those he held most dear, he fought to stay alive. With the resolve to keep his sanity from the beast within, he fought to focus on other things, other happier memories. Yet only she, brought true relief from his pain.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. He could still see her so clearly, as though she were with him. Even now, he could see her, sitting behind him, watching. She was looking at his art like she often had when he felt the urge to paint. He had always coveted her opinion above all others.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

He smiled slightly at the praise, as his eyes focused on each stroke he painted, the colors blending and twisting in a way that made a fresh wave of excitement burn through his very soul. This painting, this work… it was all for her.

As he stepped back, suddenly stopping, he placed his brush delicately on the table beside him and admired his newest piece. The canvas, painted black, had a large blue mountain, nearly in shadow. Running through its midst was a bright red line, almost like a vein. Gold tentacles seemed to be rising from its peak, an array of light in the midst of all the darkness. To the right of the gold were small chips of silver sprinkled throughout the black. To the left, were little dashes spread widely apart from one another, of aqua blue, as though half of the mountain was being rained upon while the other seemed to bask in the glow of the silver moon slivers, for that was what they looked to be. The bottom of the painting was the most colorful. An array of purples, greens, reds, and oranges seemed to flood the floor of the mountain, like a fire trying to consume it all and yet, the mountain continued to stand firm against all odds. The darkness could not hide it, the rain could not flood it, the moon could not overwhelm it, and the fire could not consume it.

"Your heart...," she whispered as she gently reached out and touched the still wet paint, though none strayed to her fingers. "This painting, why give it to me?"

Klaus was silent as he looked into her eyes. He knew she wasn't real. He knew she was dead and was merely a figment of his imagination, a desperate attempt to keep her here with him beyond the prison. Yet he could not lie to her now, just as he never had been able to before.

"You've always had my heart Cami, since the day we met."

"Your daughter…" she began to argue.

"She is my soul, my entire reason to go on living, but you Cami, you were my conscience; my only love. You were…are, just as special. Forever and Always."

She reached up to his face and he closed his eyes. He could almost feel the softness of her skin, the warmth of a living being and yet when he opened his eyes, the room was empty and his canvas blank.

"Brother?" Came the slightly concerned tone of Elijah.

Klaus turned to his older brother.

"Are you alright?" he stepped further into the room, "You've been staring at the Canvas now for nearly an hour and have yet to make a single move."

Niklaus said nothing as he turned to once again glance at the Canvas. Where his brother saw only white, he could still see that painting of his own heart. He could remember how he felt as he made each delicate stroke. The darkness, his past. The rain, his sorrow. The moon, his pride. The fire, his beast. That mountain, his heart, had held strong through it all and at the peak of his heart had been a unique golden light. He knew what it was, he knew it was where the real Niklaus was located and his beautiful Cami, the red veins spreading throughout the mountain where she had infiltrated his heart, his very being. Only she had known the true him.

Yes, he could clearly still see the picture in his mind's eye.

"Perfectly fine," he finally said, realizing he hadn't spoken and his brother was eyeing him worriedly, "merely… thinking."

Elijah did not seem convinced, but left him to his thoughts. Klaus was relieved by this as he turned back to his art, the painting once again gone and a blank canvas sat before him. It seemed fitting in a way. He had said his goodbyes, he had given her all he could and now, he had to move on and be the light she had always believed he could be, one brush stroke at a time.


End file.
